Retard
by Chelsee
Summary: Small look into a scene on Nameksei, between a Prince and a 'mutt'. (Semi-pointless; written on a whim.)


This fic was written for no true purpose, which is why I call it "semi-pointless". Many readers may not like it. Fine. I'm willing to accept that. 

**Retard**

A round window, enforced by a projected dome of cracked and partially melted blue glass, let full sunlight into the room. Through the warped window, as far as the eye could see, an expanse of lush blue grass, above which expanded a warm green sky, lit by multiple suns.

Planet Nameksei, as the planet's occupants referred to it.

On the grass, where they could easily be seen and guarded, sat seven very large spheres of gold, each suspending in their transparent center a particular quantity of red pentagonal stars. They shone like polished amber by the light of twin suns, a third sun sinking into the horizon.

A man of slight, but compact stature stood at the window, looking outside, but at nothing truly in particular, eyes lidded, his hands on his hips. For just a moment, his head nodded downward in exhaustion; it had been quite a few days since he had last slept, though he wasn't sure exactly. This planet had no period of time in which the sun was _set_, eliminated the ability to distinguish one day from the next.

The man had a name, of which he was particularly proud of. Royal Saiya-jin Prince Vegita. Heir to the throne of Vegita-sei. And as it turns out, he was not dead yet, as he would have thought.

Considering all he had done against the mighty Freeza, it was a small wonder _everyone_ wasn't dead yet. But he had survived. As had Kakarotto's brat. And, amazingly, the human, too. Despite the amount he boasted, despite his constant reassurances to himself that he would win, Vegita honestly hadn't expected to get this far. Hadn't expected to survive _half_ as long, actually. Not many years before, he would never have even considered openly defying 'Freeza-sama'. Ever. He valued his life.

But he had, all for the sake of those cursed little yellow balls which had so far failed to do as they were meant to. He had gone to Chikyuu to use them. Gone to Chikyuu _against_ 'Freeza-sama's' orders. After all, what harm could the Aeesu-jin* be against him were he immortal? But they had failed him; the ordeal had disgraced him, humiliated him, defeated him, proven him weak compared to even inferior_ Saiya-jin_, and, most degrading: Removed his tail. And any chance of surviving under Freeza's hand.

Closing his heavy eyes, he slid a hand behind his back to the small, tender area at the base of his spine, the area his tail had once occupied. Removed by a weak, all but harmless human. A very upsetting reminder it was, that a weak Chikyuusei-jin could do such a degrading damage to _him_, despite all the power he possessed.

Kami, how he hated Chikyuusei-jin right then. Everything having to do with that back water, technologically mixed up little mud ball of a planet. 

Earth, his cheek twitched in contempt. When he was immortal, so help him, he would return, and then he and Kakarotto would have a battle that would end _correctly_.

There was some annoying sound echoing through the ship. Hm. He had been aware of it for some time, but in his tired state had been ignoring it... a quiet clicking. He couldn't recognize it at first. A series of clicks, followed by silence, then a second series, then a lone click, then silence again. 

Buttons. Someone was pushing buttons. Not quite the confident, regulated series of sounds of one typing. More, just giving in to the curiosity, knowing nothing of what they did.

Vegita blinked hard to try ridding himself of the dry, grainy sensation on his eyeballs as he turned in irritation and followed the sound, collecting his arms up to cross over his newly armored chest-- though the armor itself was out of date and old, it was preferred over the bloody, broken armor he'd previously been wearing.

His own blood. Spilt by the Ginyu squad. Dead, now, by his own hands. Every last one of them, save the captain himself, though he was certainly doomed to a life not worth living. They should have thought twice before daring to pit themselves against a Saiya-jin...

He continued down the rounding halls of the circular ship, stepping thoughtlessly over the corpses of Freeza's men that he, himself, had slain. Weaklings, all of them. Undeserving of even the right to _try_ opposing him... He kicked one of the stiff bloody bodies out of his way as he walked; how he hated the stink of these dead _things_...

The sound was suddenly to his left. The clicking noise that bothered his sharp senses so much...

Oh. It was Kakarotto's brat... Leaning over the controls of the back up engine regulator, hesitantly but unhalting as he experimentally pushed different key pads, looking back up at the display readouts to figure out what he had just done. Then turning a dial, then lowering a lever. His tiny back was to the door, and he was obviously neglecting his chi-sensing awareness. He was entirely unaware that the prince was behind him.

Vegita had not told him he was allowed to play on the ship's delicate instruments; this ship, after all, might be the only one left that the he would be able to use to leave Nameksei, and if the boy indirectly interfered with that, he could very well be stranded on this empty planet.

Saiya-jin feet moved naturally without a sound. It was in their nature. And in such a way did Vegita move forward into the room, to stand behind the brat, so close he could smell his mixed blood. This brat, this mutt of Kakarotto, smelled of Chikyuu more than he smelled of Saiya-jin, and for far more reasons than that he had grown up on that insignificant planet. Chikyuu was in his blood. It tainted him. Ruined him. And now he dared to take liberties on helping himself to the ship's facilities...

He raised a hand without a single rustle of fabric to mark the movement. He could kill the brat right now. Even were the boy to turn around and face him, to struggle and fight for his life with all he had, he did not have the power within him to defend himself against one at such a level as Vegita. And his primal Saiya-jin instincts told him that, being the superior in power, it wasn't just his _right_ to kill the boy, it was his duty, to maintain the principles of natural selection.

The strong lived to destroy the weak. To _feed_ on the weak.

He would almost have been surprised to hear his own voice. Almost. Accusing and sharp. "What are _you_ doing?"

His poised hand lowered. He could always kill the boy later. But for now, even his limited power was needed. He was not immortal yet; death had not been escaped. In the least, he could throw the brat to Freeza as distraction for him to escape by.

The little figure seemed to jerk, the brat spun around too fast, face too easy to read. He wasn't even trying to hide his fear.

"Oh! G-gomen. I-I was just looking at these controls, I've never-"

His chi, his posture; the soft way he spoke. He was trying too hard to not be offensive.

"-seen t-technology this advanced before-"

But _that_ offended Vegita. A Saiya-jin that did not want to fight-

"-I honestly wasn't-"

-was a waste of Saiya-jin flesh. How horribly he stank of Chikyuu.

"-doing any harm-"

"Who did that to your hair?"

The boy's fear dropped for half a second, replaced by confusion, studying the grounds with his own piercing, inherited Saiya-jin eyes. Stolen Saiya-jin eyes. _Squandered_ Saiya-jin eyes. Then... was that the smell of embarrassment? He brushed his perfectly cropped, forcefully straightened hair off his forehead, "Okaasan-"

"I'm up here, brat."

"Oh...," it seemed to take a great deal of effort for him to raise his head and stop speaking to the ground, "Gomen... Okaasan did-"

"And don't touch anything else. Not the equipment. Not the controls. Don't even use the commode. I don't want you wrecking anything and getting _me_ stranded here... Dammit, brat, what did you say? If you're going to speak to _me_, you will _not_ look _down_ when you do it. And stop _mumbling_ or I'm going to startguessing what you're saying," he brought his sharp, severe gaze down to the boy's level, inches from his face, "And my creativity is only rivaled by my temper."

"H-h-"

The Prince again raised his hand as though he were about to strike.

"Hai!" Somehow the brat's voice did not carry through the air very far, despite the force he put behind it. It was just naturally too soft.

It was disgusting how dulled this brat's blades were. Whatever threat he could have potentially possessed., it had been disarmed. Rewired. _Humanized_. Despite the stamina he had shown on the battle field, he was nothing more than an impotent mess. Disappointing.

"Brat, challenge me."

"W-wh-"

His little back hit the console in recoil from the blow. 

"_What_?" He repeated louder, hand holding his stinging cheek, eyes closed from the effort, little body trying to somehow vanish into the console behind him, pushing up against it, putting precious millimeters between them, "W-what did you say?"

"I said challenge me." The prince spoke slowly, irritated. "I won't repeat myself."

The boy, instead, seemed to shrink, looking to his left, then his right, out the window, at the door behind the Prince. His little mouth was working silently, trying to reply. Under his lips, Vegita saw his Saiya-jin sharp canines. Tch. Wasted. The boy probably couldn't even kill himself a meal to use them on.

"I...I..."

He could not have moved fast enough to escape the gloved hand that caught hold of his nicely trimmed hair and lifting him into the air to Vegita's full height, making them eye to eye, "You, you what?" The prince spoke into his pinched and trembling face. He could smell fear, now. Strongly, at such a proximity. It permeated.

"I... _I d-don't want to fuh-fight!_" His fists balled, body curling to expel as much volume as possible.

His bottom hit the ground, and he got to his feet impressively fast -- he _did_ know how to fight, Vegita had to remind himself, the boy's swift movements proving it. The brat now took on a relatively tight defensive posture. Not a stance; he seemed to be serious about not fighting, but he definitely was more alert now.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" The Prince's voice seemed to carry much better than the boy's, though they were breathing under the same atmosphere, "_Retard_. Is brain damage somehow hereditary? No Saiya-jin would _want_ to claim such a disgusting position." He realized the boy was actually replying, but even in the close distance between them, with the aid of his superior Saiya-jin hearing, Vegita could not hear him.

Chi enveloped the ground under the boy's feet, engulfing half of the console -- oh, shit. But the boy wasn't standing there anymore. He'd relocated to the far wall, against which hung tools of maintenance. "I said I... wasn't... a..." He started out speaking loudly, but as he continued in his sentence it got quieter, and stopped before he even finished it, each word spoken seeming to widen his eyes, filling them even more with horror as he realized what he was saying. But then a hardening of his normally soft face, his expression clouding until the horror and fear could not be seen. " A Saiya-jin. I said I wasn't a Saiya-jin."

"Get out."

A gloved fist trembled with restraint.

"B-but I can't leave Tousa-"

"Get. Out."

"I _can't leave Tou_-"

The boy was spun all the way around from the impact before slammed against the wall, then slid to the ground, a long red smear accompanying him. Oh, kami, he could hit harder than that Ginyu member... Recoom... now! It had only been one blow, but he could already taste blood in his mouth. One of his back baby teeth had been knocked loose. He tried to get to his feet but his body was still trembling, twitching; in shock.

Vegita stood and waited, calmer now that he had expelled some of his anger. It was funny, but he really hadn't meant it when he told the brat to challenge him. He was too tired to want to really do anything besides sleep. His eyes were burning and dry. He wanted to close them for a few hours.

He waited for the boy to slowly get back to his feet, little fists raised to try defending himself if any other attacks came. 

"Get out, brat. Go watch the goddam dragon balls. If Freeza or one of his men happened to come by right now, there is nothing to keep them from being stolen." _Just get out, I want to sleep without you looking at me_.

The boy looked as though he very well might argue. As goddam humble and peaceful as he was, it didn't seem to sit well to take orders. But reason seemed to be one of the few _good_ traits the possessed.

"Hai..." He said it clearly, and not to the ground, but it was more to the wall to his left. Oh fucking well. He could be smacked around for hours, days maybe, and he still wouldn't be able to make eye contact when he spoke. Vegita was just too tired to care.

Vegita followed the boy out the door, vaguely aware that behind him the automatic extinguishers had gone off to douse the flames rising up from the back up engine regulator. Well. Hadn't been the boy to ruin it after all. Again, oh fucking well. 

He waited, disgusted yet amused, for half a moment to watch the boy pick his way too delicately through the tangle of dead and bloody and burnt limbs of Freeza's men. What had the boy to fear from a corpse? They posed no threat.

Retard. Goddam retard. Goddam, Chikyuusei-jin, Saiya-jin blood stealing, coward of a retard.

Kami, he needed to close his eyes for a few hours...

**The End**

* Aeesu-jin: Freeza's species 

** Chelsee's Fanfiction Land Fanmanga FanFiction FanArt Odds and Ends Links Email**


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